flip a new page
by charbrose
Summary: this was her company, her birthright and she was taking it back


_a/n: a couple weeks ago beyonce's 'upgrade u' came on my pandora, and i got a whole bunch of roman/steph feels. their feud turned me into such trash, and i got this idea where steph wants to have complete control of wwe (she's a mcmahon, after all) and is tired of running things with hunter, so after sheamus' cashes in at survivor series, she recruits roman. this is also because i wanted authority!roman really bad because him in a suit... jfc._

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 **~*~flip a new page~*~**

 **pairing: roman reigns/stephanie mcmahon**

 **summary: at the end of the day this was her company and her birthright and she was taking it back**

 **rating: t**

* * *

Stephanie watched with piqued interest as Hunter stood in the ring with Reigns, holding out his hand for the newly crowned champion to shake. She had a feeling she knew what the younger man would do. Most likely he would rebuff her husband, take his championship and leave the ring. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Hunter had mastermind the downfall of The Shield, putting everything behind Seth Rollins and stacking the deck time and time again against Reigns and Ambrose.

But maybe... And then it happened, pushing Hunter's hand away, and a **spear** , flattening The Game to the mat.

 _Typical_ , the billionaire princess thought with disdain. She shook her head sadly even though she knew this was the likely outcome. It was obviously too much to hope that Reigns had a brain underneath that perfect head of hair.

The next thing she knew a pale body was rushing past her and a flash of gold caught her eye; Sheamus was cashing in. Her blood simmered underneath her skin. She and Hunter had explicitly talked about this. Sheamus, while he had the Money In The Bank briefcase, wasn't championship material. He had his chance to be champion and had a less than stellar reign. He wasn't going to win the ladder match, the path was paved for Reigns and then Wyatt caught the Samoan in his cross hairs and changed everything.

That pale redhead with his ridiculous hair cut and beard was not going to represent everything she worked hard to build, the image she had crafted and there he was standing in the middle of the ring; championship in one hand and his other being raised by her husband.

Seething at this blatant display of disobedience from Hunter, the brunette growled and shoved a large crate into a wall. Somehow, she resisted the urge to rip her hair out from the roots, but she could not stop herself from repeatedly kicking the crate itself, uncaring that she was scuffing $1000 Loubitouns in the process.

"What are you throwin' a tantrum for?" Whirling around, Stephanie found herself face to face with Reigns who looked like someone kicked his puppy. "Thought you'd be rushin' out to the ring to celebrate with your hubby and Sheamus? I mean," Impressive arms crossing over a thick chest. "Ain't this what you wanted all along? You know channeling your inner Bray Wyatt and all? Anybody but me? Wasn't that the new Authority motto?"

Chest heaving and seeing red, she fights the urge to rear back and smack the younger man, but somehow she holds back. Taking a deep breath, she smooths the nonexistent wrinkles of her fitted red dress and runs her fingers through her curls, regaining her composure.

Her glacier blue eyes stare into steel grey and the wheels in her always active mind begin to turn. While Reigns wasn't as clean cut as she preferred, it was hard to deny the handsome figure he cut. That classic movie star chiseled jaw, an intimidating presence at six feet five inches, muscles upon muscles all wrapped up in smooth caramel skin highlighted by smooth features thanks to his half-Samoan half-Italian heritage.

A suit... Fitted, of course and with his hair pulled back, he could do very nicely.

"I can't speak for my husband," Easily she comes back to the here and now. "But my motto hasn't changed. I'm here to do what's best for business, and you should be here doing what's best for yourself. When you're ready," A slow blooming smirk across glossy lips. "To stop being a low rent John Cena with this hero routine you insist on playing up, I believe you know where my office is, Mr. Reigns."

And with that, Stephanie turned on a pencil thin heel and made her way out of the arena.

* * *

"I know we talked about this..." Hunter's gruff tone is wheedling and Stephanie wants to wring his neck with the tie he's loosening. The air in this limo couldn't be more stifling. She knew it was her fault as she reached for the window control, pressing down with more force than necessary, but she couldn't help it. Did he honestly believe she was stupid enough to think that Irish oaf had acted on his own when he cashed in tonight?

" _Steph_..." Short rough hairs from his cheek scraping against hers and she turned, leveling her husband with a glare that could freeze glass. "That is _who_ you want representing this company? Sheamus? Do you even know how long his only title reign lasted? Does anyone? He is forgettable, at best and at worst, he looks like you dragged him out of a two-bit biker movie. With Seth having to vacate the title, _that_ is the best we – _The Authority_ – can do? _Sheamus_?" A bark of harsh laughter. "I don't think so. I will not have _any_ part of this. Obviously, I did not make myself _clear enough_ the first time around. If this charade continues, you are on your own."

 **"You can't do this..."** Growled as a large hand grips her wrist, tight, short nails digging into her skin.

Jerking her hand away, Stephanie rears back and slaps Hunter as hard as she can. _"I can't do this?!"_ Screeching and angry, her irises the color of blue around a flame. "Clearly, you've forgotten who you're dealing with, _dear,_ " Sardonically sweet. "But this is _my_ company. Without me, you'd be nowhere. Don't make the mistake of underestimating me, Hunter. My father made that mistake, my mother did and so did Shane and look at them now. Shane might as well have disappeared from the face of the Earth, my mother has no say in anything and my father is nothing but a figurehead, a hollow suit that we trot out from time to time. Now, if you want to continue pushing that oaf as champion, you will be on your own. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Dry and a fake smile crosses glossy lips as she pats her husband's cheek facetiously. "Good, boy."

* * *

The dress hanging in her dressing room was one she kept hidden in the back of her closet. She was saving it for a special occasion. Originally she had planned to wear it when Seth beat Roman at Survivor Series, but unfortunately the Iowan was injured before the title defense could take place, so in the closet it remained.

But since she believed she had made her point crystal clear with Hunter the night before, Stephanie thought she would bring it with her to RAW. Surely, a championship match was going to happen tonight. Even if Reigns still insisted on playing the hero, he was going to remind them of his automatic rematch clause, and to the surprise of everyone The Authority would turn out to be behind him 100%.

As she reached for the deep purple fabric, she heard Hunter's gravel tone through the television she always kept in her dressing room, "Oh, you'll get your rematch Reigns, but The League of Nations is going to be ringside, and before your little buddies The Usos and Ambrose get any ideas, they are not only banned from ringside, they're banned from the arena."

The dress slipped from her hands, and all Stephanie saw was red. How dare he?! Was his ego really that fragile that he couldn't do what she asked of him?!

Grabbing the first thing she could get her hands on, she ended up throwing a vase filled with two dozen red roses – an apology gift sent from Hunter, ha – at the television, cracking the screen.

"Bring Reigns to my office right now." Staring down a production assistant as she spoke through clenched teeth. "No cameras. If I see one camera following him, you and that camera man are fired."

* * *

"Lemme guess," Spoken lazily as he leans against the door. "You're gonna tell me I'll have a hand and a leg tied behind my back during this rematch? Sheamus gets tables, ladders and chairs plus his cronies and I get nothin'?"

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Mr. Reigns, but I'll let it go for now. If I wanted to add stipulations to your rematch tonight, why wouldn't I have done that after my husband announced the League of Nations would be ringside but Ambrose and The Usos were banned from the arena?"

"I don't know, you tell me..."

"Prove me wrong. Prove that you do have a brain underneath those luscious locks of yours. Show me you're willing to do whatever it takes to _keep_ the WWE World Heavyweight Championship. Sheamus can't come close to going on the run you can. You have _everything_ it takes to be at the top of this business." Slowly she begins circling the younger man. "The looks," A manicured nail running along the chiseled cut of his jaw. "The talent, the body," A slow squeeze of his tattooed bicep, fingers lingering as she feels the muscle flex. "But do you want it bad enough. That's," She backs away, surveying him with crystal eyes. "The question. So why don't you tell me, Roman, do you want it bad enough?"

He's been here before; Hunter had him in the ring, the championship right there, close enough to touch and all he had to do was shake his hand. And now his wife was in her office, offering up the same thing. He knows what he should do... Tell her to go fuck off, that he don't need her pulling the strings or anyone for that matter to win. He'll do it on his own, fuck you very much.

But where has on his own gotten him?

"Think of how proud your family would be," Breathless in his ear, the scent of pomegranate and vanilla filling his nose. "Their boy continuing their storied legacy. We both know the only name that means more than McMahon in this business is Reigns. Sika, Afa, Dwayne, Rakishi, Umaga, Yokuzuna. Sheamus isn't going to be half the champion, you would be. Why have him representing my company when I could have you?"

"What about your husband?"

"What about my husband? He thinks he can go out there and tell the world that I want that ridiculous Irish oaf as my champion, when I explicitly told him the opposite. He has made the grave mistake of underestimating me, and he needs to pay for it. I did _everything_ for him, and _this_ is how he repays me by spitting in my face?"

"Cause I can trust you? You turned your back on your father, wished your mother dead and now you're throwin' your husband under the bus. Why should I believe anything you say?"

"Because I can give you everything you want. Now, are you man enough to take it, Roman?"

"I won't feel like much of a man with you pullin' my strings."

Haughty laughter as Stephanie leans back against her desk, crossing one shapely leg over the other, the skirt of her dress riding up enough that he can see the smooth stretch of her thigh. "Isn't being a man all about providing for your family? Isn't this – accepting my help – the best way to put food on your daughter's table?"

A smirk tilting at plush lips. "Don't you fuckin' dare. I know how to provide for my daughter. I don't need you to help me do that. I've done just fine without you, if you didn't know. She's happy and healthy, which is all any parent can hope for. You should know, shouldn't you?"

Tucking a russet curl behind her ear. "You're right, a happy and healthy child is all that a parent can ask for. I won't deny that, but don't you want your daughter to have everything you never did?"

In one long stride, he's looming over her. His scent of sandalwood and the ocean, mingling with something deeper, fills her nose and her breath quickens as he leans in, those intense grey eyes staring deeply into her crystal.

"You gotta do better than that, Billionaire Princess," Teasing and low, the accompanying chuckle vibrating the wonderful thickness of his ripped chest. "If you want to entice me into teamin' with you. My baby girl's got everything she could ever need," He backs up, crossing his impressive arms over his chest. "So try again."

"I can give you everything, and you know I can." Straightening to her full height. "I don't have to entice you any more than I already have. You should be down on your knees begging for my help. I turned Hunter into everything he is. Without me he would be nothing. If you want to continue coming up short, it's your life, but don't think I won't make it hell on Earth."

"You think you got me shook? Sweetheart..." And there's the famous slap across his cheek. "You insolent, little boy..." A finger pressed to her lips, making her eyes go wide and he shakes his head, pride coating every smooth syllable as he taunts, "Now, Steph, we both know they're ain't nothin' little about me."

"You cocky son of a bitch," Bit out through grinding teeth and as she rears back, he captures her wrist and he says, "Slappin' me around and getting in my face won't do you any favors."

"You're lucky I haven't tossed you out of **my** arena," Emphasis on 'my.' "Don't forget who owns your ass, Reigns. You're mine whether you accept my offer or not. Now," Smoothing nonexistent wrinkles on her tight red dress. "Do we have a deal or not?"

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. I'll be walkin' outta your arena with the strap across my shoulder, and when I come out on Smackdown, you best be there ready to congratulate your champion. And," Bending forward, nose sliding up and down the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent of pomegranate and vanilla. "Wear somethin' tight," A large hand suddenly cupping the right cheek of her ass. "I like when this ass is on full display."

And with a swagger in his step, Roman left a bereft Stephanie behind.

* * *

Stephanie stared out the window, the city whipping past her eyes as she listened to Hunter bitch about Reigns. He had done exactly what he told her he would; walk out of the arena with the title, which meant... She swallowed, a shiver rolling through her body, her skin suddenly hot as his words filled her ears, that deep bass rumbling from his chest.

 _wear somethin' tight, i like when this ass is on fully display._

"Are you even listening to me?!" A deafening roar and she rolls her eyes as she turns to face her husband. "I've only been listening to you whine and moan since we left the arena, Hunter. Instead of acting like a child, why don't you live up to your moniker as 'The Cerebral Assassin' and have a discussion with me about how we can use this to our advantage."

"Reigns..." A slow shake of his head and Stephanie sighs heavily, "Would make a perfect heel champion. He feeds off the heat from the crowd. He's talking trash, he's a dominant force. Who can stand toe to toe with him? Rusev? Maybe, but he even pushed him around last summer during their brief feud. He has everything it takes to run with the title the way Seth did."

"His mic skills..."

"Stop making excuses. I told you what would happen with Sheamus as champion. He fell flat on his face. Even with Barrett, Del Rio and Rusev backing him, he couldn't get the job done. Now, you can be a good loving husband and support your wife as she congratulates the new WWE World Heavyweight Champion on Smackdown or you can sulk like a little boy. If I were you, I know which position I would choose."

"Are you threatening me?" Hazel eyes blazing and Stephanie scoffs, patting Hunter's rough cheek. "A McMahon never threatens, honey. You should know that."

"Stephanie..." A deep growl as a large hand clasps around her shoulder and the brunette's crystal eyes turn glacial as her glossy lips twist into a deadly grin, "Don't push me, Hunter. This company is my birthright, and you need to remember that. You would have no stake here if it wasn't for me. I. Made. You."

* * *

The limo comes to a stop and Stephanie slips from the buttery leather seats after the chauffeur opens the door. Walking into the glitzy hotel, she tells the front desk clerk, "There's a reservation here for Stephanie McMahon and Hunter Helmsley, only my husband will be sleeping in that room. I'm requesting another room."

The front desk clerk's brows furrow as he types on his keyboard, "Ma'am..." A put up on sigh from Stephanie, "If you can't find something complimentary to the room I've reserved, then my husband will take a single and I'll keep the suite. Let him know. He should be walking in any second. And don't forget to have my bags delivered to my room."

* * *

A glass of wine in hand, Stephanie sips slowly at the robust red liquid. Her wedding ring gleams in the low light, taunting her. Was it really that long ago when she and Hunter could barely keep their hands off each other? When every public display as 'The Authority' was real and full of passion and heat? Clearly, being COO of WWE had gone to his head and in the process their marriage had fallen to the wayside. Her stomach twisted, remembering how she had been so sure they would be just like her parents, together forever nothing able to tear them apart.

Her eyes fluttered, her mind falling under a heated haze as she heard... _now steph we both know there ain't nothin' little about me._

It was so hard to keep those taunts at bay, to forget that smooth bass. Those criminally plush lips. Framed by a perfectly trimmed beard. Chiseled jaw... That body that looked like it was chiseled out of marble, those muscles encased in perfectly smooth caramel skin. Deep raven locks just begging to be pulled... _fuck_.

A bark of sad laughter as those four letters filtered through her mind. When was the last time Hunter had touched her? But why would he when he had that little... Before she could stop herself, she hurled the glass of wine against the wall. The glass shattering, the red liquid staining the soft white carpet and she felt like confronting the son of a bitch, of finally putting everything out in the open because did he really think she was that much of a fool? Did he honestly believe she didn't know how he was screwing Alexa Bliss behind her back?

Her wedding ring was flung against the same wall and as soon as she felt the saltiness of tears begin, she quickly swiped them away. She was a McMahon God damn it. Not some sniveling past her prime housewife, desperate to hold onto something that no longer existed. She was Stephanie Marie McMahon, a force to be reckoned with, and she wasn't going to sit by and let everything she built crumble around her.

* * *

Stepping out of the limo, Stephanie had barely taken a step toward the arena's entrance when she heard, "Looks like somebody was payin' attention."

Her breath couldn't help but catch as Roman moved toward her. Deep in the pit of her stomach, she felt heat starting to coil. Her tongue slipped from her mouth, unable to stop from wetting suddenly dry lips.

The white t-shirt he wore clung to every defined muscle of his chest and the sleeves hugged the impressive thickness of his biceps. The contrast of the color against his smooth caramel complexion was almost too much to take. And the way the title hung off his broad shoulder... Even in just the t-shirt and jeans he exuded the swagger of a champion.

"Don't flatter yourself Reigns," Scoffing and before she can blink, he's pulling her into his deliciously hard frame. "I know you ain't wearin' this for your husband. Cause if I was him, this dress," Bending forward and taking one of the straps between his teeth. "Would be in shreds back in the hotel. But that's just," Pulling back with smirk across criminally plush lips. "Me."

 _fuuuuuuuck_ runs through her brain as her thighs rub together. A smirk crosses her glossy lips as she shamelessly let's her eyes roam over his every inch. "That's a lot of big talk, big dog," Mocking and snide. "But can you back it up?"

The fitted shirt allows her to see the vibrations of his chuckle rush through his ripped chest. "Sweetheart," Like warm chocolate being spread over her skin. "You really think I can't back it up," And there's her hand pressed to the crotch of his jeans, _ooooh_.

Lips crash against lips, hungry and wanton, nothing gentle and romantic. Just pure lust surging through their bodies, like they're trying to devour the other. His teeth find the graceful column of her neck, biting sucking as she grinds her hips against his. One shapely leg goes around his waist, the feel of him through his jeans, right there against her core. Her panties are beyond ruined, damp and clinging to her pussy as it throbs with every rock of his hips.

"Tease," She gasps as his lips leave her neck and find her decolletage. Roughly, he pulls the straps of her dress down, revealing her ample breasts encased in lace. "Fuck," Growled as he slides his mouth over her right nipple and then palms the left, squeezing and tugging as she squirms and writhes.

Lace is torn from her pussy falling helplessly to the concrete of the garage and it's such a macho display, it shouldn't make her wetter, but it does as he holds her up with just one hand and impales her on his dick. She bounces up and down, matching the rough pistons of his hips and as she claws at the thick muscles of his back, he attacks her neck.

He'll have scratches, she'll have bruises. Both of them marked by what's happened between them.

A swipe of his thumb across her clit and a rough smash of lips against lips, and she's falling apart. He comes with a heavy growl, head slumped against her collarbone as her quivering pussy milks his dick for everything it's worth.

The scraps of lace are tucked into the back pocket of his jeans and with a firm squeeze of his ass, she's sashaying into the arena, the click-clack of her heels in his ear as he watches her go.

Reaching back, he feels his dick twitch when his fingers touch damp lace.

* * *

Standing in the middle of the ring, Roman knows what everyone expects when _style and grace, i'm never gonna be dumb now welcome to the queendom_ , blares through the speakers. He smirks, watching Stephanie strut down the ramp, doing her royal wave as she soaks up the boos from the crowd. He takes special care to admire the shape she creates in that dress. Her curves are on full display, as mouthwatering as ever.

He chuckles, low, as she circles him.

"Congratulations, Roman," Practically a purr as a manicured hand reaches out, stroking the lines and shapes of his tattoo. "I have to admit, I didn't think you had it in you. I mean you were so beaten down after Survivor Series when Sheamus cashed in, so defeated, but look at you! You dusted yourself off, picked yourself up and now here you are standing in the middle of this ring as WWE World Heavyweight Champion."

"Naw, I didn't pick myself up and dust myself off. I showed up and showed out, that's what I did. That's what I do every night. There isn't a man in that locker room that can touch me. Now, I got the hardware to prove it. So go ahead, do your thing and call Sheamus and his cronies out here for a four on one handicap match. All whoop 'em all."

"I have to say, I'm a little disappointed that you think that's why I'm here. Also, I'm disappointed you don't think I'm sincere in congratulating you. But I am. After all, how much more sincere can I be when I've decided to do what's best for business and put my faith in you 100% as our Champion?"

 _behold the king the king of kings on your knees dog all hail_

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing Stephanie?!" And instead of quaking in fear, like most when they see the hulking figure of Hunter Hearst Helmsley stalking toward them, Stephanie turns to Roman and whispers in his ear before blowing a condescending kiss at her husband.

"Maybe you forgot what I said after that weasel Rollins took a steel chair to my back," Roman's right there in Hunter's face after the other man stepped onto the ring's apron. "But I haven't. I said I was comin' for you, Hunter, and now's as good a time as any to make good on that promise."

The Samoan cracks his knuckles and winks as the mic falls to the mat with a hollow thud. Before Hunter can make his move, there's a hard right hand to his jaw. Bringing him into the ring, it's set up perfectly for a spear and Reigns delivers.

Then stepping right onto the other man's stomach as he reaches for Stephanie, pulling her into a searing kiss.


End file.
